


Flame On

by fransoun



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, but magnus didn't think he meant quite like this, rodimus is hot stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:17:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6261610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fransoun/pseuds/fransoun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus can light himself on fire. This is not always a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flame On

In retrospect, Rodimus figured two things had probably led to 'the incident', as Magnus wouldn't stop referring to it.

First - the fuel. Rodimus had been indulging himself with the highest high grade engex Swerve had to offer. After all, they were celebrating! What they were celebrating, Rodimus couldn't quite remember, but they were definitely celebrating something, and it had left Rodimus with a tank full of energy-rich fuel.

Second - the timing. It was the first time in forever neither he nor Magnus had a shift to get to the next morning, so not only did they have time to enjoy themselves at the bar, they really had time to savor the foreplay (or 'pre-amorous exertions') that came after. Magnus' big hands splayed all over his frame, tracing his biolights, caressing his plating, pinching his spoiler...Rodimus had been panting before he'd even popped his panel.

And then he had popped his panel, and Magnus had popped his, and _Primus_. He rode Magnus with loud, gasping abandon, and a groaning Magnus reciprocated beneath him, and the engex heightened the intensity of every sensation and made each touch burn like the sweetest fire.

Rodimus could feel arousal pooling behind his array, molten and bubbling and fit to burst, a familiar enough feeling when he was here with Magnus like _this_ , but he could also feel a different heat gathering in his arms, prickling and stinging as it raced down his lines, a heat he hadn't felt since - _oh_ -

_\- uh oh -_

The next thing Rodimus knew, he was flying across the room.

Rodimus had always kept the door to his washracks open. Much like making his berth, he’d never seen the point of closing it. He had to open the door to go into the washracks, and he had to open the door to come out of them, so why bother closing it in between? It was a waste of time and energy he could be using to do cooler stuff, like surfing meteors or doodling on his desk.

When he’d begun dating Magnus, Rodimus had considered starting to close it. He made his berth now, and he returned cubes to the dispenser after he’d refueled and cleaned up after himself and just generally kept his habsuite as neat and tidy as he could because it made Magnus happy, and it made Rodimus happy to make Magnus happy. But it was only one little thing.

And who could blame him for wanting to leave that subtle reminder for Magnus that shower frags were always an option?

Rodimus flew through the open door of the washracks and hit the back wall, warm air whooshing from his vents as his battle protocols kicked in, preparing to suck down cooler air in its place.

Magnus came charging after him, skidding to a halt right outside the washracks. He reached inside the door and slammed his fist down on the control panel.

The door slid shut. Soapy cleanser spewed from the shower head.

The spray hit him right in the face, and the speedster sucked down a huge ventful of it.

Rodimus emerged spluttering and drenched with solvent. Soap suds clung to the metal flares of his helm and stretched between them in webs of pink foam. His collar had filled to the brim with cleanser, and it sloshed over the edge and splashed all down his front with every step he took. Bubbles spewed merrily from his vents each time he exhaled.

Magnus was barking orders into his comm.

“ - Inferno, report to the captain’s habsuite immediately! - ”

Rodimus hurried across the room, leaving a damp, sudsy trail behind him, and tugged at Magnus’ arm.

“Magnus! Magnus, it’s all right!”

Magnus jerked his helm up and stared at him, optics huge. His gaze slowly travelled over Rodimus, revealing one dripping wet but distinctly un-burned flame-colored speedster.

Inferno’s voice came from the comm. “Commander? Commander?”

Magnus spoke, optics never once leaving Rodimus’ face. “Disregard, Inferno.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Magnus spoke into his comm again, optics still fixed on Rodimus’. Apparently, while Rodimus had floundered under the spray, Magnus had managed to contact the medbay as well.

“Doctor, please ignore my previous orders.”

Ratchet didn’t reply, but Rodimus could hear the gasping, hitching wheezes of the C.M.O. laughing himself sick.

Magnus folded his comm back into his wrist, still staring at Rodimus. He spoke.

“ _You were on fire_.”

“Heh. Yeah, sorry about that, I - ”

“ _Why were you on fire_.”

Rodimus blinked. “Wait. You - you don’t know?”

Magnus slowly shook his helm.

“Oh. I guess I thought you - well. Here. It’s easier for me to show you, I think.”

He took a couple steps back and then paused. “Don’t freak out, okay? I promise it’s all right.”

Magnus nodded.

Rodimus ran a quick check on his fuel levels, furrowed his brow, and -

 _Whumpf_. The superheated energon flowing through the fuel lines in his protoform combusted, the resulting plasma flowing up through the seams and gaps in his heat-resistant plating, and Rodimus’ arms burst into flames.

He held them up to show Magnus. “See? I can sort of, uh - I can sort of light myself on fire.”

Magnus’ optics had gone perfectly round. Rodimus shook his arms a bit to put them out as he deactivated the fuel flow and then, when Magnus didn’t speak, stood there shifting awkwardly under his gaze, a puddle forming at his feet.

“I’ve always been able to do that. I’m an outlier, I think. Usually I can control it, but sometimes strong emotions like, well, like a really good frag, I mean _really_ good, wow, Magnus, that was _amazing_ \- can...can sort of...”

Rodimus trailed off. Magnus still hadn’t said a word.

The speedster look a tentative step towards Magnus and laid a still-warm hand on his arm, peering up into his optics. Magnus didn’t flinch back, and the knot in Rodimus’ chest loosened just a bit.

“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you, I promise. I honestly thought you already knew. Are - are you alright?” Rodimus had checked over Magnus as soon as he’d gotten the cleanser out of his optics and he hadn’t seen any burns, but he wanted to make absolutely sure.

Magnus finally spoke, covering Rodimus’ hand with his own. “I am all right. _We_ are all right.”

Rodimus smiled and relaxed against Magnus, who wrapped his arms around him.

Rodimus spoke again, his voice a bit muffled by Magnus’ plating. “I’ll do better, okay? I won’t let it happen again.”

Rodimus felt Magnus’ chin bumping gently into the top of his helm as the bigger mech nodded. Then he released Rodimus and looked down at him, regarding the smaller mech sternly.

“I will, however, still be requisitioning a fire extinguisher for each of our quarters.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Perhaps more than one.”

Rodimus grinned. “Whatever you want, Magnus. As long as we can keep doing...y’know.” The speedster rubbed his still-wet plating up against Magnus suggestively, trying to urge him back towards the berth.

Magnus shivered, but he stood firm. “Rodimus. It would be unsafe for us to resume any of our - ” He coughed and looked away. “ - er, _amorous activities_ without the proper precautions in place.”

Rodimus whined. “But, Maaaaaaaagnus - ”

“ _No_ , Rodimus. I will submit the request for the extinguishers tomorrow.”

“Fine.” Rodimus turned and flung himself away from Magnus, trudging dejectedly towards the berth. “Well, I’m gonna dry off. You can use the washracks to clean up if you want - ”

Rodimus stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, M _aaaaaa_ gnus.”

Something in Rodimus’ sing-song tone arrested Magnus. He responded warily. “...yes, Rodimus?”

Rodimus came slinking back across the room, deliberately accentuating the sway of his hips, and saw Magnus swallow. The big mech stumbled back a step or two, fetching up against the habsuite wall as he tried to put distance between himself and the speedster advancing slowly on his position.

Rodimus stopped right in front of him, looking up at him with a sly smile as he lifted a hand as if to trace the lines of Magnus’ broad chest - but he didn’t touch. “We can’t resume our, mmmm, ‘amorous activities’ unless you deem it safe to do so, correct?”

“Y-yes,” Magnus managed, and Rodimus saw him shudder, heard his fans stutter and stall in his chest. “That is why we must - ”

“Sooooo what if we kept fragging each other somewhere that was, y’know, already wet?”

Rodimus slid his gaze suggestively towards the open door of the washracks, and Magnus followed, venting unevenly as his optics widened.

Rodimus leaned in even closer, his whole frame mere inches from Magnus’ as he stretched up to whisper in Magnus’ audial - but he _still_ didn’t touch. “Would that be acceptable to you, commander?”

Magnus exhaled in a rush, slumping against the wall as he shuttered his optics. “Y- _yes_ , Rodimus. Yes, _please_.”

“ _Good_.” Rodimus flung himself against Magnus and hauled his helm down to kiss him, kiss him _hard_ , basking in the heat blasting from the big mech’s frame before he slid down and grabbed one of those huge white hands in his own to tow Magnus happily towards the open door, a triumphant grin on his face.

He had been right after all. Shower frags _were_ always an option.


End file.
